


i have built (deep in my heart) a chapel filled with you

by maguna_stxrk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23682712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maguna_stxrk/pseuds/maguna_stxrk
Summary: “I lost it. I can’t-- Can’t find it, Buck. I lost it,” Steve whimpers.Lost it? “What did you lose?”Steve sobs, his words near incoherent. “The compass. I can’t find it, please-- It was here. Last night, I had it. It was here.”Bucky breathes out, slow and heavy. He knows how much the compass means to Steve.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 299





	i have built (deep in my heart) a chapel filled with you

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Marcel Proust's quote:
> 
> "I have built, deep in my heart, a chapel filled with you." - Marcel Proust, in a letter to Anatole France, from Selected Letters 1880-1903.
> 
> Do not let the character tags fool you: This is 100% a stevetony fic. This is not a stucky fic.

After fifteen minutes of ringing the bell with no reply, Bucky thinks to hell with privacy and punches in the six digit entry code to Steve’s apartment. Sam is already waiting at the coffee shop they’re supposed to go to and Steve should’ve been ready to go half an hour ago. After all, they’d promised to have brunch together today. It isn’t like Steve to be late without notice and Bucky is wondering if this is one of those rare times when Steve forgets or oversleeps.

“Steve?” Bucky calls out to the seemingly empty apartment. That’s when he hears the sobs coming from the direction of the bedroom. His mind races with the worst possible scenarios and when he bursts into Steve’s bedroom, the door nearly falls off its hinges. 

The sight that greets him makes Bucky feel like he’s been sucker-punched in the stomach and he stands rooted in the doorway, shock gluing his feet to the floor. 

Steve’s room is a mess. A shipwreck. Steve sits in the middle of the chaos, curling in on himself with his knees pulled to his chest. His shoulders heave up and down almost violently, wracked with sobs. 

Bucky rushes to his side. “Steve! Steve, what’s wrong?” Bucky touches his shoulder. Steve’s sleep shirt is damp with sweat. 

Steve looks up at him, tear tracks down his cheeks, his face red and blotchy. Although his eyes seem to meet Bucky’s concerned gaze, they are lost somewhere faraway, wide and unseeing. 

“Buck-- Bucky. Bucky,” he breathes, fingers suddenly clutching at Bucky’s hoodie frantically.

“Yeah? I’m here, bud. I’m here. What’s wrong?” 

“I lost it. I can’t-- Can’t find it, Buck. I lost it,” Steve whimpers.

Lost it? “What did you lose?”

Steve sobs, his words near incoherent. “The compass. I can’t find it, please-- It was here. Last night, I had it. It was here.” 

Bucky breathes out, slow and heavy. He knows how much the compass means to Steve. 

Bucky squeezes Steve’s shoulder and whispers reassuringly, “Hey, hey. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. I’ll help you find it, okay? It’ll be fine, bud. If you had it last night, it has to be somewhere here, right? Just try to breathe, okay? Calm down, bud. I’ll help you look for it.”

Steve doesn’t seem to register what he’s saying at all, hugging his knees to his chest again, panting in distress. 

Bucky stands up reluctantly and fishes his phone out of his pocket to text Sam that they would just have to have brunch some other time. He looks down at his best friend, the curve of his back taut with tension, looking small as ever. The only way to calm him down would be to find the compass, so Bucky begins looking for it, cleaning Steve’s room as he goes. 

In his desperation, Steve seems to have looked in the most unlikely of places, emptying his closet and drawers. Books, articles of clothing, art supplies strewn everywhere. Halfway through his search, he finds it lodged in a tight space between the bed and the night stand. 

He hurries to retrieve it, accidentally pressing open the compass in his haste.

“Steve! I found--” he exclaims excitedly, but the sight of the picture in the compass makes the words die in his throat.

It’s a small painting, colorful, incredibly detailed, and almost photo-realistic. 

There is no mistaking who the subject is; careful brush strokes making up Steve’s artistic rendition of a gleeful face laughing up at blue lines of holographic projection, seemingly in a world of their own. 

Steve has apparently heard Bucky’s exclamation, running over the second he sees what Bucky has in his hands. He grabs it from Bucky’s grasp and looks down at his precious compass, tears of relief rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you. Oh, God. Thank God.” Bucky watches in a daze as Steve clutches the compass to his chest, bringing it against his lips while repeating his thanks. 

All of a sudden, a piece of memory from three weeks ago jumps to the forefront of his mind. At the wake, after they had sent Tony off and after Steve had come back as quickly as possible after putting the stones back where they belonged, they were all gathered inside at night, drinking coffee and trading funny anecdotes about Tony Stark. In the middle of it, Bucky was suddenly aware of one person’s absence in the room. Bucky walked around the house, looking for him, and decided to go look outside halfway through Happy’s story about a chaotic day in Monaco. 

The clearing had been near pitch black at night, the only substantial source of light being the warm yellow light shining from inside the house. Bucky inhaled the cool night air into his lungs as he looked around and that was when he had spotted him.

A familiar dark silhouette bent over at the edge of the lake, sobbing his heart out. Bucky had jogged over to him and found Steve a mess, the top three buttons of his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His hair messy as if he had run his fingers through it repeatedly.

Bucky had pulled him into a hug and Steve had sobbed, sobbed, and sobbed into Bucky’s shoulder, muffling his heart-wrenching cries in the fabric of Bucky’s jacket. It had broken Bucky’s heart to see his best friend in such a state.

“He’s gone. He’s really gone. What am I gonna do, Buck? What am I gonna do?” Steve had cried helplessly.

Bucky had closed his eyes and hugged him tighter, muttering “I know” and “It’s going to be okay” because there was nothing else he could do. 

That was the only time Bucky had seen him cry over Tony Stark’s death. The next time Bucky saw him, he seemed fine and healthy as ever. There hadn’t been a trace of the broken man Bucky had caught a glimpse of at the lake that night. 

At the time, Bucky hadn’t thought anything of Steve’s grief. Bucky knew that Tony was Steve’s best friend, the one who made him feel welcome in this century, and of course losing him would destroy Steve. 

But looking at his best friend now, seated on his bed, unable to tear his teary eyes away from the compass in his hand, the compass that somewhere along the way had contained a carefully drawn painting of Tony Stark instead of the brown and faded photo of Peggy Carter--

His mind replays every single time he has seen an unexplainable and raw emotion linger in Steve’s eyes whenever he talks about Tony Stark and it is like seeing pieces of a puzzle fall into place. _Oh._

_Oh. Of course._

Bucky closes his eyes. 

_He’s really gone. What am I gonna do, Buck? What am I gonna do?_

For the first time, Bucky understands that although Tony Stark has given Steve a home, he also took Steve’s heart in return. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr [@maguna-stxrk](https://maguna-stxrk.tumblr.com/) and let's talk all things stevetony! :)


End file.
